Some uber important stuff happened last week, you guys! No, not a cure to some dumb illness or anything, it was the premier of this season’s “Dancing with the Has-Been or Never Were Stars”! We’ve had some bizarre people on the show before, like the 80-something-year-old astronaut, Buzz Aldrin, who had to be pushed around the floor like a shopping cart, and Sarah Palin’s daughter Bristol. Cause somehow even the children of famous people we hate get counted among the “stars” on this show. As far as I can tell, her only “talent” came from getting pregnant in high school right when her mother was advocating abstinence for teenagers. You have to give her points for that, I guess.
But what about this year? Vanilla Ice is on, because, of course he is. Also, we have an Olympian, and not just any Olympian, an Olympian who vandalizes property and lies about being robbed, really smoothing out international relations between the U.S. and Rio, just like Romney did by mentioning how much Britain sucked during the Olympics before that! We’re on a roll, here. Speaking of politicians who have no business on any floor, be it Senate or dance floor, we have our next, and my favorite, contestant: Rick Perry.
You might remember ol’ Rick as one of the zillion Republican presidential candidates this year. Or you might not, since he’s not that interesting and heck no one really remembers who was running this year except for Trump. But we in Texas sure remember him cause he was, inexplicably, governor here for 14 years. By his last term, though, even Texas hated the guy, so much so he was nearly beaten by a Democrat in a state that has gone red in all political elections for years. Democrats don’t even bother running for a lot of posts. Yet Rick sucked that bad. So naturally he chose to run for president. And fail. Twice. What’s the logical next step?
A reality dancing show, naturally. If Trump can go from reality show to politics, why can’t Rick go backwards? He claims he is there to learn how to dance for his daughter’s wedding. You get a glimpse of his unfortunate daughter in the audience, attempting to hide behind the seats before she realizes the camera is on her and puts out a patented forced smile. They really should have some sort of support group for the children of idiot politicians. Yet just as he was while governor, Rick has no clue she’s uncomfortable. He’s rarin’ to go! No talent, no problem, is his motto.
Last week was his first dance of the year, and it was a goodie, folks. Ya’ll, I mean, he was awesome. First off, he forgot he was no longer governor in his introduction. Then his dance partner proceeds to make fun of his Texas drawl, which I swear all of us do not have. I don’t – and others, like Merry who have heard me speak, can vouch for it. But for some reason, others do, and sometimes they come from towns just miles away. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. Another department at work had a lady we used to call “Miss Twang”. It was literally painful to be in her vicinity.
But I digress. If you want to talk about pain, you gotta see this performance. Cause it’s not just about how Rick can’t dance, it’s how he chose the song “God Blessed Texas” (with Rick of course) and this massive set complete with Ferris wheel and no kiddin’ – corndog stand. Here ya go.
So proud to be a Texan right now, ya’ll. Here’s some of the reactions we heard around the web after his performance. I highlighted a few favorites.
Jezebel: Rick Perry, with nothing else to do, will join Amber Rose and Vanilla Ice on Dancing with the Stars – where do you go after 14 years rolling back Texas abortion access and executing the mentally ill? The dance floor, baby!
Twitchy.com: ‘Dances with the Stars’ teases the Rick Perry vs. Vanilla Ice dance-off we’ve been waiting for
Dallas Morning News: Is Rick Perry dancing the desperation boogie by joining ‘Dancing with the Stars?’ – “bless his heart” – says columnist Ken Herman
Texas Tribune: Rick Perry talks ‘Dancing with the Stars’, Senate speculation
VanityFair.com: Failed Presidential Candidate Rick Perry to join Ryan Lochte on ‘Dancing with the Stars’: Miraculously, Perry is not the first previously indicted Republican politician from Texas to appear on the reality show.
I love these article titles. Desperation boogie. Dance off between Vanilla Ice and Rick Perry (make it happen, guys, please!). The inclusion of “Dancing with the Stars” and “Senate speculation” in the same sentence. And finally, realizing that he is not the first indicted Republican politican from Texas to appear on this show. That’s incredibly specific there. Which is why you should totally be watching. I actually missed the first episode, and had to catch him on youtube, but you can bet I’ll be watching tonight to give you another report next Monday. We’ll see if the judges’ reactions go from “Eh, you uh got out there um way to go?” to “You’re fired”. Personally, I hope the voters keep him on there so we can torture him some more. Because it is up to voters, since those meanie judges gave him 5 out of 10 stars. Rick thought this was awesome, cause he’s dumb. No, Rick, sorry – that’s 50 percent. In other words, FAIL. But hey, you got out there and embarrassed yourself and your daughter, so props to you, sixty-something-year-old politician you!
To make up for that last performance, here’s another one that will amaze you. It’s by Toni Basil, best known for her hit song “Mickey”. She’s 72 now – no really she was 39 when Mickey came out – but she still dances better than I ever will. Check it out.
Wow. I found this incredibly inspiring. So much so, I wrote a little song for Rick, to the tune of “Mickey”.
Oh Ricky, what a pity, you don’t understand
Don’t take her by the foot, no you take her by the hand
Oh Ricky you’re so dippy, stop running for office
Cause we hate you Ricky
Cause you’re so dumb, Ricky, dumb, Ricky
Go break a leg, Ricky!
I’m gonna shock everybody here, but did you like know that a lot of Reality TV is not real at all? Like the people in it aren’t really people, they’re actors, and they’re reading scripts – it’s bad actors and bad scripts, but still. Yet a lot of people believe this crap!
The trend all seemed to start with Survivor – a show that implies you’re supposed to survive something other than really awful characters and that jerk host. I found that show amusing from day one. These peeps be all by themselves, survivin’ in the elements like they’re the freaking Donner Party, you know, if the Donners had cameras trained on the at all time. And if the camera people were just sitting there eating sandwiches while the Donners decided which of their pals looked tastiest. Yeah, right. You know if there had been a camera man, the Donners would totally have eaten him first.
Same with Survivor. Oh, dear, how will they find food? How will they survive the extreme weather? How will they keep from strangling the inevitable irritating people they include on the show? I’m on the edge of my seat here. They’re in such danger. At any time a wild animal or something could show up, and they’d be taken away in a plane! Wow they are so brave!
And that’s the thing . . . if you take away the actual danger, it means nothing at all. Not to go all geek on you, but there is a scene in a Star Trek movie that proves this point. In it, Captain Kirk has been in this pretend world that basically lets him do and be whatever he wants. But then he realizes, when he has his horse jump over a gorge, that he did not feel that same thrill – because he knew he’d make it. He had to make it – this was dream world. With no possible danger, you don’t have risk. There is no real accomplishment when there is no chance of failure.
It’s like that old show Swiss Family Robinson, where this family treats their survival of a shipwreck like a family vacation. They build a way cool treehouse with all the best Western conveniences, and they domesticate an ostrich, a zebra, and of course an elephant. This is all totes believable right? I can’t believe Disney didn’t market this as a reality show.
But why watch Disney when you can catch the star of “Man Vs. Wild” survivalist Bear Grylls, who answers the age old question: does a bear crap in the woods? Answer? Yes. This dude is like the professor on Gilligan’s island – though he carries only a knife and some flint, he can craft his own raft, eat bugs, bite heads off of snakes, swim in freezing waters, make a coon skin cap out of a rabid wolverine, etc, all while being followed by a probably really bored camera crew that does not aid him in any way, for reals. They probably sit back and laugh a lot. I would.
Anyway, he can do these things in between visits to hotels. No, Alice, don’t burst the bubble! Already done, like 7 years ago, proving once again I am on the pulse of today’s news. A consultant for the show, who was probably getting sick of Bear and his crap (pun intended), tattled to the New York Times that when Bear was “surviving” in the Sierra Nevada mountains, he survived the night in “a luxurious hotel with its own spa on a lake.” Another time, while surviving on a desert island, he hung out in hotels in Hawaii. Best of all, in this same episode, he led a team of builders to create a raft out of bamboo and leaves and stuff, then had them dismantle it so he could miraculously put it together on camera! Bear, you are my hero!
Bear of “Man VS Wild and Bad Hotel Service” is hardly the only guy out survivin’ on camera for us. We’ve also got a hippie guy who wears pigtails and walks around on bare feet along with a slightly more normal friend, a husband and wife team in which the wife constantly yammers at the husband making the real survival him not smacking her, a couple of people stripped naked (with thankfully blurred private parts), and more. In other words, we’re talking a lot of privileged Western white people playing Swiss Family Robinson on film.
So what do you guys think of our “Survival” reality shows? Is there a show you’d like to see them make? Like maybe a man surviving in a little girl’s room, forced to participate in tea parties for hours on end, wear tutus, and play Barbies. The possibilities are endless, and probably you could find a network more than willing to pick them up. I’m thinking the best one would be a crossover – like say Cougar Wives Vs. The Wild, where these old ladies have to find a young hottie Tarzan to save them from New York City before it’s too late!
Anyway, I’d love to see your ideas. Put them in the comments section below, and I’ll highlight the best survival reality show ideas in an upcoming post!
Friday (Ding ding!)
After a night of being repeatedly interrupted with blood draws and the checking of vital signs (yes, I’m still alive, go away) I am woken at 6 AM to go get a chest Xray. Because blood must be drawn at midnight, and Xrays done at dawn. Makes sense. I order eggs, bacon, sausage, yogurt, and a bran muffin for breakfast. I threw in bran muffin and yogurt for a healthy cover. No one cares, cause it’s my lungs, not my heart. I’m not terribly worried, as at this point, I’m still not sure I’m coming out of this alive, so I might as well enjoy myself as much as possible.
The nurse asks if I want a shower. Not really, but I think others want me to want one, so why not. I am wrapped up so I don’t get the IV wet. My hair I don’t touch. I’m not sure it’s actually hair anymore anyway. Maybe it might make a good nest for something.
Dh returns. Doctor shows up and asks how I am doing. Haha, that’s a good doctor joke there, because of course my answer is horrible. Yet there is a part of me that is compelled to say “fine” like a good American who never admits that anything is wrong, even when attached to monitors and an IV. This is because generally no one wants to know how you’re doing. They’re just being polite.
She says I get to stay another night in their fabulous resort. After all, one can’t expect to recover from a Pneumonia you can see on the Xray from orbit, she says. I’m once again complimented on my ability to get sick on a complex scale. I bet my Xray is talked about at lunch with the other doctors. “It was this big, and yet she was still breathing!” Yes, I can just imagine their happy talk at the doctor lunch table. Stupid doctor gossip.
I get breathing treatments with the Nebulizer. This sounds like a sci-fi term, but really it’s just a glorified air pump. I breathe this smoke stuff in and out. Thing One had to do this earlier, and delighted us with her Darth Vadar impersonations. “Luke, I am your father” and so forth. I do not do impressions.
I am also given my very own spitoon. It’s technically called a spectum collector, but basically it’s a funnel you spit in and they collect it. I don’t want to know what they do with my spit. What kind of job involves looking at spit? It occurs to me that I think doctors are worth every penny they make because there is no way I would ever, ever want to work with sick people or their spit.
More T.V. How can there be so many channels, and yet nothing on any of them? I’m assuming at one point the names of these channels meant something. For instance, the History Channel (new motto: history is made today so that means we can show you crap that has nothing to do with history) has stuff about how aliens constructed the pyramids. Or maybe that’s Discovery. One or both of those stations talk about aliens and Bigfoot and Mermaids. They have entire shows on this stuff. The producers wear tin foil hats, I think.
The best one, of course, is The Learning Channel where one can learn about freaks of all shapes and sizes. I decide on Amish freaks who come to New York. You’d never guess, but the Amish can be total jerks also. In no time, one of them is an alcoholic bouncing around on a stripper pole. Thank you, TLC, for being such a good influence. Clearly this is preferable to their life back on the farm without such necessities as reality TV.
At some point I give up and let dh flip channels while I attempt to sleep. He naturally turns to manly stations like those revolving around people digging for junk in storage lockers (there are several of these. Why?) or people digging for junk in old garages, or hillbillies fishing with or without poles and / or dynamite. Also, there’s the survival shows, like with expert Bear, who is all alone except for his wiles and oh yeah the camera crew. There are other survival shows besides this one. One has a husband and wife. Another has two guys, one of whom is a hippy with bare feet. Fascinating stuff.
The girls are shuttled to my parents to spend the night so dh can stay with me. He gets the recliner while I get the possessed bed. Back at the grandparents, I hear that Thing One (she’s 12) refuses to sleep with Thing Two (she’s 8) on account of sister cooties or something. Thing One is bugged that her routine is disrupted. Thing Two thinks she is on vacation, and has brought along a posse of stuffed animals. Sleeping accommodations are set, though I doubt anyone actually sleeps well. Except the stuffed animals, maybe.
Saturday (Ding din. . . oh forget it)
I am released from the hospital that afternoon with about a billion prescriptions and random orders that neither dh nor I remember. I am scheduled to see my GP a week from Tuesday, because who needs vacation time, right? Actually, I am relieved, because I’m pretty sure that if they sent me to work at this point, I’d spend the day drooling on my computer, I mean more than usual, and more than likely would end up stapling my coworker’s head at some point. Better for all to rest.
And get better. They keep mentioning this, but I have yet to experience it. Luckily, I am not at all patient. We will see. Home accommodations are not as cool as the hospital ones, even with the IV. Perhaps I will swallow a puzzle piece.